


my little crow and other platonic things the local red-headed heterosexual giant says to you

by luminosa



Series: rarepair heaven [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, High School, Internalized Homophobia, Jon Snow Knows Nothing, M/M, Past Jon Snow/Ygritte, but it aint angsty, jon is a theater kid, what the hell is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-24 14:55:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18573790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luminosa/pseuds/luminosa
Summary: It shouldn't have surprised Jon as much as it did, because frankly, Tormund had never been like the other dudes Jon knew. He was too comfortable with extreme physical contact no matter the person and he stared at everyone's butts, no matter what they looked like. He was also a fucking red-headed giant, so no one actually dared question him - but the first time he called Jon my little crow, he caught him so off guard he fell down in the middle of the cafeteria and spilled his orange juice all over Ygritte's shirt.based on the "my little crow" scene





	my little crow and other platonic things the local red-headed heterosexual giant says to you

**Author's Note:**

> so maybe i ship jon with everyone. AND THAT'S VALID  
> [english isn't my first language, if u guys find any mistakes, please let me know]  
> 

It starts with a nickname.

It was the week after winter break, and the cafeteria was serving that disgusting stew that people later dumped in the trash. Jon was minding his own business with Edd, Grenn, and Pyp as Sam and Gilly were flirting when Tormund almost tackled him to the ground in a hug.

It shouldn't have surprised Jon as much as it did, because frankly, Tormund had never been like the other dudes Jon knew. He was too comfortable with extreme physical contact no matter the person and he stared at everyone's butts, no matter what they looked like. He was also a fucking red-headed giant, so no one actually dared question him (except maybe for Sandor Clegane, but he was huge too, and Tormund never seemed to mind) - but the first time he called Jon _my little crow_ , he caught him so off guard he fell down in the middle of the cafeteria and spilled his orange juice all over Ygritte's shirt.

He was sure that incident would cost him a couple of teeth, but she just glared at him red-faced then proceeded to laugh until her sides hurt when Edd told her what happened. Which was unfair. So Tormund had tackled him to tell him he missed his little crow, then proceeded to walk away as Jon stared dumbfounded, and when he wanted to walk again his legs had given up on him. So what? It happens to the best of us.

"God, Snow," Ygritte grinned. "I can't believe you got the hots for Giantsbane!"

"I don't have anything for Tormund," He mumbled, playing around with his mac and cheese. 

"Your eyes said a whole different story, mate," Grenn chuckled, Pyp nudging him on the side as he laughed.

"Oi, Tormund, do call me that again!" Mocked Pyp, clasping his hands together and forcing a dreamy look on his face. The table erupted in laughter, and Jon just shrunk into himself to brood some more.

Tormund and he were just acquaintances. So they had managed to unite the football team a theater club together when they were feuding over who got the gym to practice those weeks it had rained so much the pitch was ruined and had thus spent a ton of time together. So he made Jon laugh and smile more than other people. So Tormund sometimes hugged him a lot. So what? They were just friends, plus Jon liked girls. He and Ygritte had dated for almost two years before he realized he liked her just as a friend. That didn't mean he liked boys, or whatever. Much less Tormund fucking Giantsbane.

"Leave it," He muttered, glaring at his friends.

"You spent the entire last year together, didn't you?" Edd chimed in, no maliciousness on his voice, just curiosity. 

"We had to get the theater club and the team to stop fighting," He shrugged.

"Did he tell you all those stories about how he fought a bear once during camp or that time he slept with his nanny?" Ygritte questioned.

Pyp frowned. "He slept with his bloody nanny?"

Jon ignored him.

"Yeah, he did tell me."

The redhead simply smirked as if she knew something he didn't, and Jon didn't like it one bit.

"He likes you, then," She concluded.

"Of course he does," Edd rolled his eyes. "He called him his little crow, for fuck's sake."

"The question is, does Snow like him back?" Pondered Grenn, chuckling beside Pyp as they both plastered their best pensive looks. "Hm..."

Gilly chewed on her chip. "He did spend an awful lot of time with him last year."

"Even when it wasn't about the teams," Pyp reminded them.

"You did call him the best player you've ever seen," Ygritte added. "And you don't know the first fucking thing about football."

"He lifts you up when he hugs you," Grenn nodded at Ygritte. "And you love it."

"You get this dreamy smile when he's around you," Gilly smiled sweetly, and Jon wanted to puke right then and there. What was she even talking about? Jon barely even smiled. "It's very cute, Jon. You have to see your face -"

"Oh! Oh! I know the one!" Ygritte exclaimed, laughter erupting around the table. "Like when Tormund sucker punched The Mountain when he was bothering Bran!"

Jon groaned, not wanting to even think about it. "Can we drop it?"

Sam pressed his lips together, as Gilly giggled next to him. "Leave poor Jon alone."

 _His only true friend._ Why did he hang out with the others again?

"I'm just saying," Ygritte shrugged, the grin never leaving her face. "You do have a thing for redheads."

 

The next time he calls him that, they are at the library.

Jon was preparing an essay for Literature (prof Lannister was an asshole who thought he was way smarter than everyone else) when he ran into him talking to Ygritte, which immediately put him on edge because God knows Ygritte liked running her mouth a little too much, and that was always no good for Jon because maybe she was telling him that he had a crush on him or something - which just was not true. And rumors like that are dangerous, even if Ygritte didn’t realize it. 

Yeah, Tormund was way too comfortable with his masculinity but he wasn’t  _gay_. He never dated a guy, and yeah he told Clegane that he liked penis but that was a joke, right? And if he was gay, that didn't mean he liked Jon like that. Barely anyone did, let alone a 6 foot 2 giant like Tormund. He had the hots for that huge girl Jaime Lannister was seeing anyway.

He must've been staring too intently because Ygritte turned around and grinned at him, and so did Tormund, both reminding him of fire in a passing thought.

"Snow," she called, a mischievous look on her face. God.

He tried not to show his discomfort on his face, but if he was known for one thing, it was his broodiness. He tried to smile but it looked more like a grimace as they approached him.

"Hello," He greeted. It's not that he wasn't happy to see them - at least, he wasn't _dreading_  to see Tormound there, Ygritte's presence could be debatable - but he knew Ygritte was going to try and do something. He didn't know what that was, but she was plotting. "What are you two doing here?"

"Sam texted Tormund about helping him with literature, but he didn't show up," Ygritte commented, fake concern on her voice. "Something must've happened... _Sam_ wouldn't just text that for nothing."

She was right. Sam wouldn't. She would though.

"That kid's nice," Tormund nodded. "I agree with Ygritte. Something's happened to him."

"I'm sure he's fine," He glared at Ygritte. She grinned at him unapologetically, of course.

"We should look for him," Tormund said to Ygritte, semi-concerned.

"No, no," Ygritte brushed it off with a wave of her hand. "The essay is due tomorrow, you need to focus on that and - oh, is that what you're doing, Jon?"

He was going to kill her. Why did he even tell her his plans this morning when she asked during Math? she never asked about those things, he should’ve known. He gritted his teeth together, but before he could answer, Tormund spoke up.

"You don't mind, little crow?" he asked, his usual smile in place. The nickname made him redden up to his ears, and he was sure he appeared mortified because Ygritte covered her mouth as she started snickering.

He tried to recover, but he couldn't look at Tormund in the eye. "I - er, no, of course not."

"Good," and he winked. He... winked at him. Jon watched as he sat in front of him, his pulse quickening for no reason.

"Well," Ygritte's shit eating grin made everything more difficult. "I better get going then, aye?"

"Yeah," Jon glared. "You better."

She mouthed a _you'll-thank-me_ later behind Tormund's back and as she left called, "Oh, I do hope I can find Samwell!"

Jon was going to kill her. He'll need help of course, but Sam would never tell him no, and maybe even Tormund could help if he didn't tell him why he'd murdered her and - No. Stop. Why would he kill her? There was no reason to. Tormund was his friend. Tormund was just a friend, and he didn't want anything more than that, and neither did Jon. Ygritte was just seeing things that weren't there. This moment was just guys being dudes making essays together.

Exactly. Just guys being dudes. A guy who calls the other guy his little crow. Dude stuff.

They spent a few minutes in silence, which was actually huge for Tormund because he normally can't shut his mouth — until Jon forced his eyes to leave his essay and stare at his friend. His dude friend. His platonic, heterosexual friend who was currently burrowing his brows at his text.

"What do you need help with, Tormund?" He asked.

He groaned. "I don't get Romeo & Juliet," he muttered. "I don't get -"

"Did you read it?"

"... No."

He raised an eyebrow. "So you want me to tell you what happens." It was supposed to be a question, but it sounded more like a statement.

Tormund smiled, but it looked more like a grimace.

"... If you want to."

It was a shitty move. It was a very Tormund move.

Jon started chuckling at his friend's antics, and soon enough, so did Tormund, until their faces turned red and people around them were starting to get mad. At some point, the librarian came over to their table and started giving them hell for disrupting the peace - whenever she wasn't looking at him, Tormund would start making faces, because of course he would, and then Jon would need to bite his tongue to stop the laughter.

Once she had left, they both settled for quiet snorts.

"I like seeing you smile, little crow," his smile was genuine. Almost everything about him was though. He didn't care what anybody else thought, he was wild and ungraceful and honest. “You are pretty, but even prettier when you smile.”

Jon felt his stomach flip, and the only thing he could think of as he felt himself turn red all over was _fuck._

 

So Tormund made him feel things. Which was fine. Plenty of things made people feel things. I mean, movies made him feel things (Wall-E just made him sob at this point in life), also did songs especially if they were 2000s emo bands; Ygritte made him feel things — anger mostly, but still. Plenty of things made him feel _things._ Sam told him as much when he confessed something had shifted in him ever since that time he and Tormund spent the afternoon in the library.

(He was the only one he could trust with this kind of information. Edd wouldn't give a fuck, Ygritte and Gilly would try to meddle and Grenn and Pyp would mock him until the day he died).

"The point is," He finished, "what is the thing he makes you _feel,_ Jon?"

"I don't know," He answered, with an exasperated sigh soon following after, "Just things."

"You were with Ygritte," his friend pointed out, "you should have an idea by now."

"It's - " Saying he hadn't loved Ygritte would be a lie, but Tormund was different. For starters, he loved to talk and talk, and he loved complimenting him just as much as he loved insulting him. He wasn't afraid to hide anything. If he said he liked seeing him smile, it meant he liked it, there was nothing behind it. Ygritte was the opposite - if she said she wanted to murder you, she loved you (and she wanted to murder you at the same time. It was your punishment for making her feel love). And at the same time, he was just like her - he was forward, reckless. He really did have a type.

On top of all that... he was a dude. He had never had a crush on any dude before. Or maybe he had and he hadn't even noticed. He did think Jaime Lannister was the coolest guy ever back when he was a freshman...

"It's different," he finished, shaking his head.

Sam's gaze softened. "Well, 'I like seeing you smile' sounds like something I would say to Gilly."

"He was just being friendly," Jon's face grew hot at the memory.

"It doesn't sound friendly," Sam shrugged. "I don't think 'my little crow' is very platonic either, Jon."

"He's Tormund," Jon simply shook his head. "He isn't gay."

"Gay isn't the only possibility," Sam reminded him.

"Well," Jon bit his lip. "If he's bisexual it doesn't change anything. He's still into Brienne from calculus."

"Has he talked about her?" Sam asked.

Jon tried to remember anything recent, but he came up empty-handed.

"Well, not since winter break ended but..."

"But," Sam gave a genuine, kind smile, the ones he was known for. " _But_ is all you need."

 

When Jon had first met them, he thought Grenn and Pyp's parties were too wild for him. They had been barely boys drinking stolen vodka and dancing to stupid music trying to convince girls to make out, and back then, to him and Sam, everything seemed so wild. Slowly, their idea of parties transformed to getting together to play Mario Kart, drink some beers and spend time together smoking weed.

They were good. Really good.

Edd was yelling at Grenn for spilling beer on him when he was about to beat Pyp (no doubt a ploy of the pair to get Pyp to win) and Gilly and Ygritte were giggling in the background when the doorbell interrupted his conversation with Sam.

"Can you get that?" Grenn asked him, blunt still in his mouth, and Jon groaned.

"It's your damn house, Grenn."

"Aye, and you're my guest," He rolled his eyes, taking the controller from Pyp's hands, "now answer the bloody door."

Reluctantly Jon left the room to do so, mumbling under his breath that he still wasn't drunk enough to deal with Grenn's bullshit when he opened the door.

"My little crow," grinned Tormund on the other side, eyes instantly lighting up in contrast of the dark night behind him.  

Jon blinked.

"Tormund?"

He showed him the beers he was holding on his right hand.

"Ygritte invited me," he explained.

"Of course she did," Jon sighed. This truly wasn't what he had been planning at all. "Come in."

He had planned to use that night to forget about Tormund, and whatever was going on between them. Tormund made him feel stuff he couldn't understand, so he wanted to stop stressing about it. So maybe he did have a crush on the guy. So maybe he thought about kissing him sometimes. That was fine. What wasn't ever, in the history of things, going to happen, was him acting on it. 

So maybe Tormund was bisexual like him. Okay, cool. That still didn't mean he liked him back. Sure, he stared at his butt. Sure, he had weird, platonic nicknames for him. So he told him he liked seeing him happy. So he said he was pretty. That meant nothing - those were things he could easily say to like, Sam. Maybe. If he was really drunk.

Tormund walked in and quickly, Jon snuck to where Gilly and Ygritte were, red-faced and annoyed.

"Why did you invite him?" He interrupted their conversation, and both of their smiles quickly disappeared.

"What?" Ygritte frowned, confused.

"Don't play dumb," he growled. "Why did you invite Tormund here?"

"I didn't do shit," Ygritte spat at him, clearly angry. "What the fuck are you talking about, Snow?"

"Don't lie -"

"She didn't do it, Jon," Gilly stepped in, clearly nervous and avoiding both of their gazes. "I did."

Jon frowned. "What? He said Ygritte -"

"I stole Ygritte's phone," She grimaced as Ygritte lifted a very surprised eyebrow at her.

"You did _what_?"

"You weren't looking," she shrugged.

"Why would you do that?" Jon asked, lines forming between his eyebrows.

"I just couldn't stand you brooding anymore!" She whisper-yelled at him, surprising both him and Ygritte. "You brood all the time, but this week has been unbearable. You kept glancing his way when he was around but avoiding talking to him! You looked like a kicked puppy all the time! And when he tried to approach you you’d run away like he was freaking Jack the Ripper! And I just couldn’t fucking stand it anymore!

Nothing came out of Ygritte and Jon. Both of them were too shocked.

Gilly looked at the floor, ashamed of her outburst. "Sorry."

Jon tensed immediately, but when he opened his mouth to speak, nothing came out.

Ygritte's hand was gentle when she placed it on his arm, and her voice soft when she spoke.

"Talk to him."

Jon bit his lip and walked away.

He found Tormund laughing while telling Edd the story of how he once lifted half a car with one arm, as Sam raced Pyp on Mario Kart and Green cheered intently. Tormund had a beer on his hand, and Edd was looking unimpressed, of course. He sat on the couch next to them and listened as Tormund rambled and rambled on, half listening and half having a mental breakdown. 

"I once killed a bear with my own hands," he continued, and Edd just covered his face with his hands as Jon chuckled. "Wanna know how?"

"Alright, I'm heading to the kitchen for more beers," Edd rose from the couch, escaping the situation but before mouthing  _good luck_  to Jon.

Tormund smirked. "I don't think he likes me."

"He likes you just fine," Jon chuckled. "We call him Dolorous Edd because he always looks like he's in pain."

That made Tormund throw his head back in laughter, "And what do they call you?" he questioned after.

"Lord Snow," he grinned, but then he remembered the nickname Tormund had given him, and he felt his cheeks grow hot and his grin falter. God, he was a goner. 

"Nothing like the one I gave you," Tormund grinned back. Jon couldn't possibly blush harder, but he managed all the same. Tormund seemed to like it though, and he only chuckled at the sight, but Jon was there for answers. 

"Why do you call me your little crow?" He blurted, trying to control his heart, feeling like it was about to stop. He was a little drunk, which meant he was a little braver than most days, but not enough to not realize he was playing with fire. 

Tormund's grin grew somehow, and it was different from the usual. He was teasing him, like always, but... there was something else behind his eyes. Something he couldn't quite recognize.

"Crow is because you like black," he chuckled. "Ever since I met you, it's almost all you wear... Leather jackets, black jeans, black shirts... And you have black hair and black eyes. And you brood a lot. You're like a crow. Little is because you're short. Shorter than me at least. I like that very much."

Jon gulped, staring at Tormund's blue eyes. He was staring at him, right through his soul, almost. Jon's heart felt like it was about to leap right out of his chest, and suddenly he couldn't hear Gren's yelling or the background music or Ygritte's laugh - he could only focus on Tormund's face. Tormund seemed to be going through the same thing because he noticed his eyes had dropped, and he was staring at Jon's lips. He felt a shiver going down his spine.

"Tormund..." He whispered, but he didn't know if he wanted to say anything. He didn’t even know if he had anything to say.

"I know you don't like me like that, little crow," He sighed, eyes dropping to the floor, and it was the first time Jon had ever seen him brood as he did. Not even when Brienne Of Tarth punched him in the gut and told him she'd rather die than date him. "But I'm drunk with beer, and I can't help but tell you that I can't stop thinking about you."

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck._ It was all Jon could think about. He was so scared, so nervous, and even though it was just Tormund — he was the only guy he had ever had feelings for. And he was amazing. He didn’t want to fuck up, but. Fuck it.

Jon looked around them to make sure no one was paying special attention to them, grabbed Tormund's hand and dragged him to the hallway, pulse quickening, and a smile threatening to break into his lips. He waited until they were fully alone and only then he stopped.

"What's going on?" Tormund frowned, staring at Jon. "Are you alright?"

"I'm new at all of this," he admitted, fumbling with his hands and feeling like he was going to start shaking at any second. "I've never liked a guy before. Not that I know of, and not as much as I like you."

Tormund's eyes opened like plates.

"What?"

"I like you," Jon confessed, biting his lip. "A lot."

“Really?”

Jon chuckled, feeling a little breathless. “Yes!”

Tormund tried to quickly recover from his initial shock, but it never quite left his features. "I knew you couldn't resist my charms," he nodded, a smile breaking into his face. "No one can fight their attraction to a man who defeated a bear with his own hands."

Despite feeling like he might have a stroke at any given second, Jon rolled his eyes, tension disappearing from the air.

"And you couldn't resist my emo brooding," he joked, “I should be the one who is shocked you like me.”

But Tormund's chuckles turned quickly to a very serious expression - one that Jon wasn't even aware he could even muster. He was such a caricature sometimes it was hard to tell with him.

"I couldn't resist your pretty face," he confessed, and Jon felt his cheeks redden again, like a blushing teen as he had been with his first times with Ygritte. Unconsciously, he had locked himself between Tormund and the wall, and he was towering over him, and he found that he didn't even mind. "Your pretty black hair, your pretty skin, your pretty lips, the way you move, the way you say my name like you want me to eat you, your pretty _everything_ -"

Before he could feel his face explode, Jon cut him off with a kiss, and Tormund was very glad of it. It was sloppy as they were both drunk and overly excited, teeth clashing against teeth at some point, but Jon felt like his stomach might burst with excitement and giddiness. He felt Tormund growl low in his throat when Jon knotted his fists on his shirt, to somehow bring him even closer. The air was suddenly very hot as they parted for air, and Tormund started trailing kisses all over his neck, his ginger beard scratched him making Jon squirm under his hold.

"My little crow," he growled, possessively, and it made Jon feel like he was melting.

 _His little crow_ , Jon thought. It had a nice ring to it.

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is always nice!!!


End file.
